Driveshaft
by Vengeance7xOver
Summary: There are thousands of places he could've found Kennedy...


***Taking a little hiatus from my Blade story due to an obnoxious writer's block, so I thought I'd put up some of my old RE stories to sooth the wait. I'm sorry! I'll try to get back as soon as possible!   
**

Leaning against the doorway trimming into the room assigned to Leon Kennedy, Chris Redfield found nothing more than a room of his belongings tucked neatly into their designated spaces and a bed with sheets made up flat. It was around the sixth time the oldest Redfield child had surveyed the room to find it empty of life throughout the day. It had been just as empty at six a.m. as it was now, at eleven-thirty p.m.

Worry was existent in Chris, for he knew not where his partner went off to for so long. Leon seemed to be nowhere outside the makeshift base, nor within it for that matter. He searched without meaning to for the most part of the day, at least while he wasn't running small errands for Jill Valentine or his sister. There wasn't many places for one man to hide.

Kicking up the same trail of dirt for the third time today, Chris mindlessly walked around the building one more time, swearing again that it would be the last. Coming back around to his starting point, the small garage door they had placed their broken BSAA vehicle behind sparked his mind. _Stupid,_ he thought. _Why hadn't I remembered this first off?_

Bringing the door to swing as far as the neglected hinges would allow, Chris eased in, seeing the bright overhead light beam along the vehicle resting on the greasy floor. He laid his right hand on his gun holster by default, creeping in and slowly around the jeep-like hunk of sand-colored metal to find nothing standing in wait. He let his fingertips slip away from the outline of his gun, sighing in frustration and inconvenience.

"Goddamnit, Leon…," Chris grumbled, shaking his head. "Where the fuck have you gone off to?"

"Here," Chris heard after the small sound of wheels rolling manually across the concrete floor, followed by a hand wrapping around the Redfield's ankle.

Letting out a yelp of surprise, Chris jumped slightly in his boots, glaring down to the grinning upside-down face of Leon Kennedy. "Shit, Kennedy," Chris sighed, relaxing. "What the hell are you doing down there?"

"Fixing our only means of transportation," Leon smiled, tapping lightly on the front bumper with a grime-coated forefinger. "It's just a simple misplacement of parts due to an over jarring of the machine against the ground."

"Ah," Chris nodded, stepping his ankle out of Leon's loose grip. "Have you been here all day?"

"Yeah, since about five this morning. What time is it?"

"About midnight. If that's all that's wrong, what's taking so long?"

"First, I had to diagnose it. Once I found that, the constant going under here to fix and coming back out for tools was a time consuming factor. It's about all done, though," Leon explained, sliding back under the vehicle. The sound of clanging metal followed the man's disappearance, then the sound of rolling a few moments later. Leon climbed out from under the machine, wiping his hands onto the faded blue mechanic jumper he wore in place of his tight slate gray shirt and cargos. "Start'er up for me?"

"Wouldn't want to take that away from you," Chris chuckled, crossing his arms in wait as he watched Leon then haul himself into the cab of the vehicle. Twisting the key in place, the machine kicked right to life for him, leaving him smirking.

Chris paced slowly over to the hood, rubbing some excess grime from its surface before turning and leaning against it. Leon jumped down from the driver's seat, fondling the clip of car keys in his palm. "Well worth the time," he said, coming around to face the other man. "Even working with this heat."

"God, I know it. Just walking around here I've been thankful for a short-sleeved shirt, but praying for shorts. How the hell can you stand a full body mechanic jumper?" Chris chuckled, raising a brow.

"Barely," the blonde smirked in return, glancing down at himself with a hint of disgust. "I feel very well filthy."

"Where'd you set your actual clothes?" Chris rose from leaning against the vehicle, uncrossing his arms with expectant motion. "I'll grab'em."

"Eh, somewhere over by the work bench I think," Leon vaguely motioned. "I think they're on the stool beside it."

Chris nodded, stepping over the mess of tools laid out on the floor with a grin and the thought, _because that's how men work._ He collected Leon's shirt and such into his arms, hearing what sounded like the jumper being stripped off where he'd left his partner. Turning, sure enough, he saw the jumper hanging away from Leon's hips, still being worn from there down. Sheened with sweat and the small amount of black and grey grease that had seeped through the blue fabric, Leon rubbed lightly at the bruises dotted across his fit chest, slightly grimacing from the past memory of how they got there. Chris stood and stared, forgetting his purpose with Leon's usual clothing. He couldn't understand why, but his partner's current stance led a tingling burn to ghost around the crotch of his cargos; watching him play with the zipper resting inches below his belly button in wait to push the damned thing off right there seemed almost like torture. Blinking back and turning his head away, Chris' face lit up as he walked back to his partner.

"Thanks," Leon nodded with a smile, reaching to take his clothes from Chris. Instead, he got an armful of Chris as the man crashed into him, pushing him against the renewed machine heatedly. The oldest Redfield leaned inches from Leon's reddened face, eyes locked as if asking permission to continue what hadn't been officially started.

"Chris-?" Leon questioned, shifting with his back flat against the vehicle's hood.

With no reply ready to explain himself, Chris collected Leon's wrists into his hands, holding them out and away from his torso as he pressed his lips to Kennedy's. Frozen with surprise, the man below resisted fighting and instead waited breathlessly for Chris to part.

"Leon…," the man finally said as he pulled away to draw a breath. "All apologies, but I've been away from home for far too long," he blamed, proceeding to lap along Leon's jawline.

"Honestly…," Leon paused for a sharp intake as he felt a small nip at his throat, "I think I have too." Smiling out of the other man's vision, Chris worked his hands over Kennedy's chest, rubbing and squeezing until they stumbled upon the zipper resting at the end of its track. He slipped his fingertips past the faded fabric, feeling over the v-shaped lines running from the man's hips down until they met between his legs. Sweeping his hands around to the back of the jumper, he lifted Leon up and onto the hood of the vehicle, earning a small gasp of surprise from the blonde.

Leaning back against the hood with his head brushing the bottom of the windshield, Leon bit at his lip as two callused hands slid the lower portion of the jumper down far enough to free the parts that just took on a new importance. He looked away from his hardening member to Chris, watching him tug at his belt and issued kakis eagerly to release his throbbing erection. Blushing with the impulsive situation rolled out before them, the pair slid closer to meet lips once more to eliminate the humility that seemed to linger in the atmosphere. The young Kennedy below gasped lightly at Chris' lips as he felt the thick tip, already leaking here and there with anticipation, press firmly against him. Eyes closed, he leaned his head back and clutched his bare hands around the BSAA agent's tight shirt with the feeling of being entered coming on strong. He allowed himself to whimper lightly when the stinging drug on a little longer than expected, but he soon recollected himself after the first few thrusts. Panting and tugging, Leon was jolted back and forth with each thrust until the head of Chris brushed softly at his sweet spot. Hips popped promptly off the hood of the vehicle, a silent beg for again that both men knew would've sounded too unraveling if it were verbalized. Abiding, Chris pushed harder until he was striking Leon's prostate with a force that left the receiving man's cock bouncing softly between their bodies.

Clawing at the hood, Leon seethed in bliss, unable to do much else despite all urges to reach down and touch himself to end the buildup of pressure in his groin. He groaned in the pleasure spreading through his lower half, feeling the pre-cum running down his length slicked with a pump from Chris's hand before he continued stroking softly along the shaft's underside.

"Chris," Leon groaned in response, "Unfair…"

The Redfield above chuckled before his face fell; eyes closing and jaw going slack as he shot his load hot within Kennedy, filling him until he was collected enough to pull out. Standing up straight, he tucked himself back into his boxers, redoing his cargos and belt with a small smile on his lips. Looking back up, he was met with pleading blue eyes and a whimper begging him to help. He blushed softly, stepping close to Leon again and wrapping his hand around his cock firmly.

"Did you think I'd forget about you, Kennedy?" he smiled, jerking at him while resting his free hand on the jumper-clad knee behind him. Smirking at his higher companion, Leon closed his eyes, indulging in the warm feel of skin running over his own. He shivered when the light rub of Chris' thumb over his tip registered, biting back the urge to spend himself just yet. He wanted to experience _more; more_ of Chris' sensual grip and quick, short strokes, even if a few were all the more he could take. He could feel his hips begin to lift off the hood in unison to Chris' hand, screaming his name as the pressure in his groin slipped down and through him. With a final buck, he coated himself and Chris' hand with sweet, warm cum until it ran down the older man's arm to drip onto the already dirtied floor.

Sighing, Leon rested back against the hood and watched Chris turn away to peck his grip for things on the floor. He twisted his face in confusion as he repeatedly saw the back of the BSAA shirt stand straight, only to lean back over for something else.

"What are you doing?" Leon shook his head shortly, brows scrunched together.

"Don't you want your clothes?"


End file.
